


Since When? Since Always

by MagpieWords



Category: The Avengers (Marvel Movies), The Avengers (Marvel) - All Media Types, The Avengers - Ambiguous Fandom
Genre: Canon-Typical Violence, Comedy, Fluff, Gen, Hanukkah, Holidays, Jewish Holidays, Miscommunication, Team as Family, but only for the first chapter, but only for the last chapter, mostly just a good time
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-01-22
Updated: 2018-01-22
Packaged: 2019-03-07 23:57:47
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 8
Words: 10,908
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13446144
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MagpieWords/pseuds/MagpieWords
Summary: A series of Hanukkah vignettes.





	1. Family for the Holidays

**Author's Note:**

> In which everyone on the team is Jewish, but they don't realize that until chapter two.
> 
> This was written for the #hanukkahprompts2017 event, originally posted on [tumblr](http://magpiewords.tumblr.com). Most of these stories are based on my own experiences with being Jewish, growing up with mixed faith parents who were usually most interested in fun traditions than actual faith, so know that I obviously don't have universal experiences with the jewish community at large and take this with a grain of kosher salt. Have fun and may the holiday spirit last the whole year.

“Tony, isn’t it a little early for a tree?” Sam asked, having been bewildered by the massive tree in the Stark Industries lobby at the entrance of the building.

“Well, the next true holiday is Cyber Monday,” The billionaire winked at Jarvis’s nearest camera and Natasha almost choked on her coffee. “but it’s officially the holiday season. Aren’t you excited?”

Falcon tried to smile, he really did. The holidays weren’t all bad. Frost decorated the windows in the morning, everything was peppermint flavor, and families came together. Except for him. Now that he was a full time Avenger, going home in the middle of December to celebrate was out of the question. He tried not to be bitter about it, but years of school holidays then army leave times not matching up with the calendar brought up something Grinch-like inside him. At least he got to visit his mom for Rosh Hashanah this year. And it’s not like Dr. Doom would take a break just because a few bells were jingling.

“Yeah,” He finally said, “holiday season.” He gave Tony a pointed look but the other man just stared at him.

“Uh, yeah. But Christmas is everyone’s favorite, right?” The statement lacked his usual bravado and, for a second, Sam thought Tony might be genuinely asking the question. There was a long silence in the kitchen.

The question went unanswered as the Avengers alarm went off. The Red Room had sent assailants and Natasha cut them down with no remorse. She was always vicious but this was something especially terrifying. The Red Room had taken so much from her, so much she had to claw to take back. Years of studying and laughing with her mother, memories faded from the ruthless training she endured. The second she was free, she relearned every verse, every scrap of her broken faith even if she didn’t believe in it anymore. She reclaimed a small, secret part of herself in the sands east of the Dead Sea, with a rabbi who she met for only moments but would defend with her life.

The way Tony talked about the holidays brought that goofy smile to his face, a smile she would defend with her life too.

When the fighting was over and Sam walked back into the communal floor to see Natasha setting up a small tree next to the couch, he couldn’t really bring himself to be annoyed.

The fight hadn’t needed Bruce to get involved. The doctor would never say he was disappointed not to have hulked out, but he was already grumpy and it would have been nice to let off some steam. He was annoyed at the obnoxious tree in the lobby and more so at the tiny one that had snuck in closer to home. The smell of pine sent him miles and years away, back to the nightmares in a tiny house in Ohio. He doesn’t want to hate winter holidays, but he’d give anything for the smell of candles burning low instead of all this mistletoe garbage.

“That stuff is poisonous, you know.” He grumbled as he walked past Steve setting it up over a doorway.

“I’m told it doesn’t get eaten, it gets kissed under. It sounded fun.” Steve teased, but didn’t push further. He could tell Bruce wasn’t in the best mood, taking his supplies to decorate another part of the Tower.

A few days later, with December barely started, Tony gave everyone red hats with white trim. Bruce had stared at the gift, then looked up to see Tony staring at him. “They sounded fun.” The billionaire had an elf hat, jingling the bell with a tilt of his head.

With a sigh, Bruce put on the the ridiculous hat. He put it on every morning when he woke up, wearing it in the lab, wearing it to meetings and dinners, wearing it because Tony and Steve and even Natasha smiled when they saw him wear it. He’d give anything for those smiles.

The hats had been given out on a Saturday, and Bucky was no where to be found to receive one. No one knew were he went on Saturdays, but no one was bold enough to ask.

Steve had woken up in the 21st century, defrosted then shocked by how the world changed. Bucky woke up like he was still crashing through ice water – maybe that was when he woke up, in the chill of the Potomac as he remembered enough to rescue Steve from drowning under the crashing helicarriers. Even after that, it was endless ice and gasping for breath as he relived the horrors of what he had done. The guilt was overwhelming. He knew breaking away from Hydra was a blessing, but in the darkest days of his recovery, he sometimes missed the empty-headedness of being the Soldier.

The first time he told Steve about this, the blond had looked so lost. Despite being a full foot taller and with at least a hundred more pounds of muscle, his face looked just like the one from that scrawny kid in Brooklyn who had lost his mother right before the holidays. It was that look that told Bucky exactly what to do. Stevie had moved in with the Barnes just a few weeks before Hanukkah that year. Family brought together in the oil lamp light, that had kept Stevie from going over the deep end.

The synagogue three blocks south of the Tower was more than happy to welcome him into their family. The Avengers were becoming his family, but being in a temple with his people, even if it was a people decades younger than him, was the instant family he needed. The instant familiarity of tradition. He taught school on Saturdays, his Hebrew rusty with an accent at first, but it was a language he’d never truly lose. The rabbi was endlessly patient with him. The kids asked him all sorts of questions, from if they had chocolate gelt in the 1940s (they did) to if he had seen the latest Star Wars movie (he hadn’t when they asked, but suggested it for the following Avengers movie night. Finn was his favorite character).

It was their endless chatter about movies that had gave him an idea for how to participate in the Avenger’s holiday decorating. Clint was the first to see it, cackling so hard over the sexy lamp from _A Christmas Story_ that Bucky had to step in to keep the egg nog from boiling over.

“No one in this tower knows the holiday spirit as truly as you do.” Clint said seriously once he regained his breath.

“You’ll shoot your eye out, kid.” Bucky winked at him. None of the kids at temple had known any Hanukkah movies, but every single one of them had tried sticking their tongue to a frozen pole at some point. Bucky was pretty sure he had tried that as a kid too.

Clint wasn’t sure how he had become the egg nog master chef, but it seemed like he was making a batch at least once a day since the first tree had gone up. He didn’t mind, it was delicious and he was waiting to see if any of the team would notice it was kosher, but he was pretty sure he’d never had the drink before this holiday season. It just seemed like the thing to do.

Coulson had never even touched a tree ornament before, but decorating the small thing Natasha had brought in seemed like the right thing to do. He’d found designs featuring all of the Avengers, had gotten different molecules made of metal for the scientifically inclined in the house, and the collection of multi-colored string lights gave the room a homey glow late at night when those who couldn’t sleep ended up in the living room. No one would expect Coulson to care about the commercialized holiday, least of all Coulson, but he hadn’t expected his family of super heroes to care about it either. And if they were happy, he was happy.

“Wait,” Sam had walked in as Coulson was putting up the latest round of ornaments he had bought. Hallmark had a sale on snowflakes and the agent was surrounded by tiny boxes.

Sam had a tiny box of his own and walked right up to the tree. Whatever was inside was placed on a branch right in the front. Stepping back to stand next to Coulson, they looked together at the small clay menorah that decorated the tree.

“Now it’s perfect.” Phil said, doing little to hold back his smile as Sam grinned next to him. Maybe the Avengers didn’t care about being festive, so much as they cared about being festive with each other.


	2. Light The Way

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which the team figures it out and the real festivities start.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Tony reading the prayers off his phone is based on me having to read the prayers off my phone because I can only ever memorize the first half.

Tony was still amazed Pepper had worked out his request for the next eight days off – he thought for sure he’d have a meeting or gala to attend on at least one of the nights. It would have been fine if he did though; having some of the nights to himself was better than none of them. There had been too many years were Obie needed him for last minute product design and Tony hadn’t had a chance to light a single candle.

Now, he stood alone in the kitchen, half fidgeting with his phone to google what the prayers were while he placed the candles. His Hebrew always felt rusty, no matter how many business trips he took to Israel.

“What are you doing?”

Tony shrieked, only just biting back a curse as he nearly dropped the lit shamash. “Tasha! We’ve talked about this. Sneaking up on me is supposed is against the house rules.”

“The rule is no sneaking up on someone who’s armed and I don’t think a lighter and your cellphone count.” She crossed her arms, fabric of her loose sweater bunching at her elbows.

“You’d be surprised what I can do with just my phone and a lighter…” Tony grumbled.

“Mind answering my question now? Because last I checked, cultural appropriation was more of a 2006 Stark activity.”

“I apologized for that and – what? You mean this?” He gestured to the menorah as he put the shamash back in its spot for the time being. Natasha nodded, her brows knitting together and Tony’s expression matched hers. “I’m not being a dick. I’m lighting candles for the first night of Hanukkah.”

“And are you Jewish?”

He paused, at a loss for how to answer that question. Because he was, by blood and by choice, but it wasn’t like he went to services or anything. Wasn’t like Maria had really explained his qualifications; she hardly had time to explain the stories that merited these traditions to him. No one had ever asked him this question before. “Uh, yeah?”

“Since when.”

“Since when? Since always, Nat. Since when do you care?”

“If you’re Jewish, why does the tower looked like Christmas threw up on it?” She sounded annoyed, but Tony knew better. Her impossible mask of emotionless spy-skills was left off when she was home. She sounded annoyed, but she let her face show she was more curious than anything.

“You try finding large scale Hanukkah decorations that don’t fall apart in two days.” Even if she’d stopped going on the offensive, he still felt defensive.

Tony had been trying to leave his own mask off at home. If Natasha felt safe enough to do it, he could too. It was always harder than he anticipated, bringing attention to itself in moments like this where he fought back with snark and a magazine style smirk.

Natasha was patient with him though. Her arms stayed crossed, her head tilting to the side just slightly to encourage him to go on. With a sigh, Tony let his shoulders relax and tried to explain truthfully this time.

“Both my parents were Jewish but you read the file on Howard. He wasn’t exactly a goodwill and cheer kind of guy. But he was a businessman and businesses always do shit for the holidays. The Stark Family tree is probably as iconic as the one in Rockefeller.”

Natasha didn’t seem convinced by that statement, rolling her eyes just slightly before looking back at him. The eye contact was too much, too sincere, and Tony had to look away.

“Besides, you got a tiny tree for up here and everyone was decorating with stuff. I wanted to make all of you happy.”

“We wanted to make you happy, Tony.” She seemed like she was trying not to laugh and now Tony was totally lost.

“Wait what?”

“I’m pretty sure everyone in this tower is lighting candles tonight. Barnes and Wilson are fighting over latke recipes as we speak.”

A rush of emotions flooded over Tony’s face, flicking by so fast that Natasha had trouble keeping up with them. “What’s wrong?” She put a hand on his shoulder, pleasantly surprised when he leaned into the touch instead of flinching away from it like he would have done a year ago.

“Nothing nothing, I mean, this is great. It’s just…” He scrubbed a hand over his face, “This is so stupid.” He mumbled before looking at her with that same silly grin that had got her to buy the tiny tree in the first place. “I can put in a little overtime in the lab to finish most of the gifts I planned for all of you, but everything I ordered from Amazon wont get here until the end of the week.”

Natasha just stared at him for a second, before muttering something that sounded fond, but Tony couldn’t follow it. “This isn’t the festival of gifts, it’s the festival of lights. Come down to Steve’s floor. Your menorah will look great with mine.”

Center candle still lit, Tony carefully carried the ancient relic Maria had left to him. When they arrived on Steve’s floor, the other Avengers paused to stare for only a moment.

“Well it’s about time!” Clint said, racing to place candles in the slim menorah that must have been Natasha’s. “If the latkes finish before we get through the prayers, I can’t be responsible for what I do.”

Bucky took this chance to whack the archer with his spatula as Natasha started to light her candles. The Hebrew was much easier to remember with family surrounding the warm glow.


	3. Pair (of socks)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The best gift is your other half coming home.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Because I needed more Rhodey in this story.

Once the candles burned out and the latkes were eaten on the first night, Tony made his way back to the workshop. He didn’t surface at all the following day, so it was Bruce who welcomed the guest that arrived just before sundown.

“Col. Rhodes,” The physicist grinned, “Need help with those?”

“No, no, I got it. You guys still doing the tree thing or can I just put these on the dining room table?” Rhodey said around the literal mountain of presents he was carrying. Bruce guided him towards the table, letting the packages slide out in an array of colorful paper.

“Doctor Banner,” With his arms free, Rhodey was able to give Bruce a proper welcome. The shorter man tried not to sink into the hug too much, but like Tony, Rhodes had never show one ounce of hesitation around him. He’d deny it, call them both foolish, but that small kindness meant the world to Bruce.

“Tony’s in the lab. I don’t think any of us were expecting you so soon for the holidays.”

“I wasn’t expecting it either.” Rhodey made his way into the kitchen. He had intended to get coffee, but the egg nog was just too tempting. Cup in hand, he turned back to Brue, but smiled at something behind him. “Someone must have called in a favor with my commanding officers.”

“Guilty.” Steve said, not looking so at all when Bruce turned to see him. “Who are all these for?”

“Well, I always get Tones eight days of gifts, but I didn’t realize we were all on the same team when it came to celebrating, so everyone else only has one. Consider the remaining days to be gifted with my presence.” He did a flourishing bow and Bruce laughed. As if anyone could ever doubt why Tony and Rhodey were as thick as thieves.

“We’re just happy to have you with us, Colonel.” Steve pulled the War Machine pilot into a hug as Clint tumbled out of the air vents.

“I see something with my name on it! Can we open ‘em now?”

“Candles first, Clint.” Steve said, “Could someone grab Tony?”

An elevator chime and a string of curses announced that fetching their resident billionaire would not longer be necessary. Tony was carrying a pile of wrapped items nearly as tall as Rhodey’s had been, letting them tumble onto the couch instead. “Okay, I got most of them done, so I think – “

Whatever he was about to say was lost at the sight of Rhodey standing in the kitchen. For a second, it was just staring at each other. Then, the half empty mug of egg nog made a soft noise as it was placed on the counter and Tony was breaking into a sprint. He jumped, letting his other half catch him.

“You’re home!”

Rhodey held Tony in a tight hug like the other man weighted nothing. “Hey T.” His words were muffled, buried in Tony’s hair. They stayed like that for a long while, enough for the rest of the team to gather in the common area. The sun set and the candles were placed, though not yet lit. Eventually, Rhodes had to put him down. With Tony’s feet back on the ground, Natasha reached for the lighter.

“I don’t think we’ve had Hanukkah together since MIT…” Tony said softly as the lights flickered in the busy kitchen.

“You can thank Captain Spangles over there for this gift then.”

Tony beamed at Steve, who started to sputter something about it ‘not being a big deal’ and ‘it’s the holiday season’. But Tony wasn’t hearing it. “If that’s the case, Steve can open my gift to him first.”

How Tony had known Steve had run out of charcoals, the solider couldn’t be sure. How he’d figured out the perfect chemical balance to make vibrant colors and super-serum proof density was less surprising. Regardless of the how, Steve was overwhelmingly grateful and quickly flushing as scarlet as the ‘blood orange’ dye Tony had used.

“I’m next!” Clint shouted. He made a dash for the package on the table, but Rhodey was faster, tossing the present out of range to Natasha. Clint stopped short, rather than trying to combat Natasha. He stuck out his tongue at Rhodes and dove for something on the couch.

“Well, wait, I didn’t exactly get to finish what I wanted to make for you yet so these are-“ Tony started, drowned out over the sound of paper ripping.

“These are perfect! I love them!” The archer held up a set of socks, each pair a different color featuring the same pattern of tiny arrows. He was already shedding the socks he wore in favor of putting on the new ones.

Rhodey tossed another present, but this one landed in Tony’s lap. “What do you buy for a billionaire?” Bruce asked as Tony tore at the wrapping paper. The colonel didn’t answer, just smiled as he watched Tony.

Tony only looked at the gift for a second before twisting around to look at Rhodey. “You didn’t!” He held up the dvd, featuring the latest Star Wars movie that had only just been released in theatres. “This shouldn’t exist yet!”

“Figured you’d been too busy to go see it. Knew being nice with all the crazies we met when you lived in Malibu would pay off.”

“We’re watching it right now.”

“Tony no,” Bruce started.

“Come on, a tiny rebel army fighting off invading empires? It’s practically the story of Hanukkah, but with light sabers! Rhodey-bear, sit next to me.”

Bruce looked to Rhodes, because if anyone could wrangle Tony in, it was him. But the other man only shrugged, taking his place next to Tony on the couch. “Dr. Banner, if you’re that eager to get your socks, you can just ask Tony which gift is yours.”

“I didn’t get him socks for tonight!” Tony protested as he handed the disc to Bucky to put in the player. He was pretty sure they hadn’t used that machine in years, not since he and Jarvis could find almost anything online. Anything but a new release Star Wars movie. Bruce sighed, curling up to sit on Tony’s other side. If everyone wanted to watch it, he wasn’t going to complain.

“I made him stretchy socks,” Tony continued as the movie started, “and he’s getting them tomorrow.”


	4. Fire at a Glance

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Natasha is rarely distracted.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If hair catching on fire (just briefly!) is something that stresses you out, you can skip this chapter.

By the fourth night, they had fallen into a pattern. Once the sun got low, scientists left their labs and agents came home from offices or field work. The team gathered in the kitchen, Natasha and Tony lit the candles, and dinner was had. Last night it had been take out, but tonight, Steve was cooking. It was the sort of domesticity that he kept hoping would continue even after the holiday.

Between tending to the pot roast as it finished, he’d steal glances into the living room, watching his team laugh and tease through a Mario Kart tournament. Bucky must have done something devious because Rhodey was suddenly tackling him. Controllers went flying and the laughter grew louder. Yeah, Steve would be very happy if this continued.

Instead of joining the game, Natasha wasn’t bothering to steal glances at Steve. She felt no need to hide the fact that she liked watching him cook. He seemed at ease in the kitchen, in the order of ingredients and keeping everyone well fed. His peace made her feel at peace. And the roast smelled too good to be away from. She took a deep breath, letting her eyes close as she leaned a little closer over the counter.

“Tash.” Tony called from the couch, but she ignored him. She already told them she wasn’t interested in playing video games right now.

“Nat, your hair!” Clint shouted, much louder than Tony. She opened her eyes and suddenly felt the heat next to her ear.

Steve whipped around, bits of the potatoes he was cutting falling onto the floor. He grabbed for a dish towel, but Natasha had already snuffed the flames. He stared at her, shocked less by the fire and more that it had been Natasha of all people to get caught in it. She blinked back at him, the only indication that she was alarmed by the turn of events, but a blink from her in a moment like this was as if someone else was screaming.

“Everyone okay?” Tony asked, breaking the silence that had fallen over the common floor. The rest of the team had stopped their game, slowly coming to gather around the kitchen counter.

“Yup.” Steve and Natasha said, nearly in unison. Clint broke into laughter while Steve tried to announce that dinner was ready. The Widow slowly moved the still burning menorahs further from the edge of the counter.

Once food was on plates, the incident went more or less forgotten. Steve leaned over, just slightly, to quietly ask, “Did you put out that fire with your bare hands?”

“It was them or my hair, Steven, the choice was obvious.” Neither of them turned their heads, but Steve stole a glance just long enough to see her smile. And not a strand of her fire-red hair seemed burnt out of place.


	5. Never Do Anything By Halves

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Thor joins and learns dreidel.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Based on a game design flaw I always thought of whenever playing dreidel. This also might be my favorite chapter.

“Explain this one to me again?” No one had expected Thor back on planet before the end of the year. He held up the wooden top, easy smile on his face, and Sam was pretty sure he could explain the game a thousand times if the god of thunder kept looking at him with those happy puppy dog eyes.

“Well, we’re supposed to have chocolate coins to play for, but Clint ate all of them, so Tony and Bucky are out buying more. But when they come back, we spin it like this,”There were a collection of different dreidels on the table and Sam picked one of the smaller ones to spin in neat, small circles, “and the different symbols mean different things.”

Thor nodded, mouth pressed in the same thin line of determination to understand that he gave to complex current events and more complex Game of Thrones plotlines. When he opened his mouth, Sam didn’t expect perfect pronunciation of the Hebrew letters to come out.

“But why those letters?” Thor asked. Sam had to take a moment, always baffled by the abilities of Allspeak.

“I was actually curious about that too,” Clint wandered in, opening the foil on another piece of gelt.

“I thought you ate all of those.” Sam narrowed his eyes at the archer before sighing and continuing. “That is a good question. They’re the first letter of words for the sentence ‘a great miracle happened there’, referring to the whole candle tradition I told you about earlier.”

Thor nodded again, mumbling the Hebrew translation for a moment, as if to process the words.

“If you play in Israel, they change the last letter.” Natasha said, causing Sam to jump. How long had she been sitting at the table? She picked up a top she brought, craved out of a delicate looking marble with a curving symbol on one of the four sides, instead of the three pronged letter featured on all the other dreidels. She spun it, letting her head tilt to the side as she watched, hair unmoving from the bun she’d pulled it into.

“I think I understand.” Thor was spun the one in his hand. It wobbled, not quite perfect, before landing on the ‘half’ symbol. “Each symbol takes or gives a certain number of coins. And we are waiting for our friends to return with more coins so we can play.”

“Wait no more!” Tony and Bucky clamored into the kitchen, each carrying a large mesh bag filled with the chocolate coins. “Clint can’t possibly eat all of these.”

“Is that a challenge?”

“No.” Tony opened one of the bags, spilling the countless faux gold foil pieces over the table. “We’ll start with one bag and when we run out, we’ll open the second. Where’s everyone else, I thought the game was waiting on us?”

“Cool your jets, T, we’re right here.” Rhodes lead the rest of the team in, stopping short when he saw the mountain of coins on the table. He gave a long sigh before taking a seat. “Tones, we’re playing a family game, not starting a casino.”

“The house is ready to pay out, fair odds, zero dollar buy in, you all wish this was a casino.”

“Alright alright, someone spin.” Bucky laughed, taking a seat next to the colonel.

“I think Thor should go first. It’s his first Hannukah after all.” Sam suggested. After a series of nods, the blond reached for that same wooden top, giving it another wobbly spin. Unlike his previous attempt, this one seemed to last forever. Even though it was just a simple game, the tension in the room sky rocketed as everyone started to lean forward to watch.

When it finally fell, Thor gave a massive grin. “This is the winning symbol, right?”

“Yeah, yeah it is.” Sam conceded as Tony let his forehead drop onto the table.

“I’m not going out to buy more.” He groaned. Still grinning, Thor dragged the equally massive pile of coins to collect in front of him.

“So much for the house being ready to pay out.” Clint laughed, nearly choking on the pieces Thor had shared from his victory feast of chocolate.

“Maybe the house should only use half of the bag for the next round.” Bucky said, elbowing Tony lightly. The billionaire didn’t lift his head, just groaning into the surface of the table again.


	6. Sugar and Snow

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Inspired by the fact that I had never had sufganiyot during the holidays until this year. Also, _this_ is actually my favorite chapter. Sorry for all the text-style talk.

It was the sixth night and no one was home. Steve shouldn’t have been surprised, they were all busy people. The fact that nothing alien or super powered had threatened the world in the past few weeks was a miracle all on it’s own. He was grateful for the peaceful days they had together, but he was left wanting more as he stood alone in the kitchen, mading a single sandwich out of leftover brisket. There weren’t even any latkas left to heat up, and he really didn’t feel like making more if he was just by himself.

He was on the last bites of his sandwich when his phone buzzed. A lone text message from Tony. [check snapchat]

Steve was just happy with was in actual English instead of whatever amalgamation of emojis the genius was prone to communicate with. Bucky had picked up on that new language fast enough, which seemed to give everyone else clearance to speak solely in pictures on the team group text. They were having so much fun and Steve didn’t have the heart to tell them he felt left out.

Snapchat wasn’t as bad. It took him a little longer than everyone else to figure out, but once he did, he loved it. It was still more pictures than words, but it was pictures of real life. Usually it was selfies or sneaky pictures of Clint asleep at a stakeout. The stickers were really fun and everyone seemed to enjoy the drawings Steve could create after Natasha had given him a stylus.

He opened the app, noticing several notifications waiting for him on the team thread. A video of Sam walking past some birds on his way to meet with an advisor for his master’s degree, a series of photos in which Bucky braided Thor’s hair, and finally, one photo from Tony.

The geo-filter said Los Angeles in a fancy type, and the image was of a giant donut sign above a building. The caption must have been what he wanted Steve to see.

[THEY MAKE SUFGANIYOT AND IM SCREAMING want some???]

The rest of the picture was filled with heart-eye emojis and what looked like water droplets. Steve chuckled to himself and snapped a photo of his open palm. It only took a minute to doodle a cartoon donut on the image.

[I would love one.]

Tony didn’t reply for a while, but Steve had already put his phone away and made himself comfortable in the living room. Everyone else had missions and meetings and “Thor’s never been skiing so we’re going upstate for the day”, but Steve had things to do too. Important things like…

Well, he had his sketch book and some podcasts. That was fine.

It could have been five minutes or a few hours, but Steve’s phone turned on and didn’t seem to stop. He scrambled to pull it out of his pocket; it would only go off like this if he was getting a phone call which probably meant villainy had finally stopped taking a vacation. If that was the case, though, wouldn’t Jarvis be alerting him too?

Instead of a phone call, he was rapidly getting a string of text messages.

TStark: buck how could u fail us like this???

Bucky: wut im skiing i literally did nothing

Widow: winter soldier sucks at winter sports btw

Bucky: fuck off

Hawkeye: haha i want pics

TStark: no shut up

TStark: steve’s never had Sigmund Freud

TStark: i mean stuff and yaks

TStark: autocorrect bullshit i cant do this while flying

Col.Rhodes: DON’T TEXT AND FLY

Col.Rhodes: We talked about this

TStark: S U F G A N I Y O T

Widow: omg bucky how could u

Steve had barely caught up with the string of texts when his snapchat notified him again. It was from Natasha’s account, but someone else was filming. Likely Thor, if the camera half being covered by a thumb was anything to go by. The video featured Natasha and Bucky, both on skis at the bottom of a slope they must have just come down. With one solid shove, she pushed him into a snow bank. There was shouting and laughter before the video cut out.

Bucky: tony i need a new phone tash got snow in mine

TStark: haha nice

TStark: but seriously

TStark: every1 get home asap so we can eat these

Hawkeye: dont u have an AM meeting tomorrow?

Col.Rhodes: Pepper is not going to be happy about this.

Another snapchat notification, this time with a photo taken from the Iron Man armor’s outside cameras. Tony didn’t just have a box of donuts, he had a crate, carrying it on the suit’s shoulders like he would carry building materials. The photo was surrounded by thumbs up emojis and a small bit of text in the corner. Steve leaned in, just barely reading it before the image timed out.

[I told Sir that I do not approve]

Steve chuckled again, glancing up at the ceiling. “He giving you too much trouble, Jarvis?”

“At least I got him to stop texting and flying. The trade off is I have to type his messages for him. And he is very particular about the placement of those emoticons.” The AI sounded the closest Steve had ever heard him to exhausted.

Another video came in, this time from Sam. The camera was facing him as he walked across campus.

“I was in a meeting,” He sounded furious, but it was too over the top. Steve knew what a truly angry Sam sounded like, so this must be played up for a joke. “In a meeting with my graduate advisor and my phone sounds like the end of the world. She asks me if it’s Avengers business and I have to look her dead in the eye, with all you still texting me, and tell her to ignore it.” The camera rapidly moved as Sam seemed to throw up his hands. “Now she thinks I value my studies over saving the world and you know what, right now I think I do!”

The video ended, followed with a short text message.

Falcon: You guys suck

The rest of the team replied with a series of different emojis, ranging from laughing symbols to something with birds that was probably a Falcon related joke Steve didn’t quite get.

Falcon: T I want those donuts when I get home

TStark: what’s that birdy? i should go faster??

Jarvis: Sir is already breaking several interstate flight regulations, please do not encourage him.

Col.Rhodes: damnit sam

Widow: save some for us!

“Iron Man should be landing at the tower in fifteen minutes.” Jarvis reported. Steve could hear the coffee machine in the kitchen start to power up. “Mr. Wilson will be arriving in twenty. Agent Romanoff, Sergeant Barnes, and Thor are leaving the ski lodge and are due home in just under two hours.”

“You work way too hard, Jarvis.” Steve slid his phone to silent, knowing Jarvis would tell him if there was anything important, and went back to sketching.

“Captain, you have no idea.”

Exactly fifteen minutes later, Tony was on the landing platform outside the tower windows. He all but dragged the crate into the kitchen, opening it and pulling out smaller cardboard boxes. He walked into the living room with a spring in his step, pastry in one hand, cell phone in the other.

“Those don’t look like your usual donuts, Tony.” Steve said. It looked more like a small cake with powdered sugar on top.

Tony didn’t say a word, just kept the camera on Steve as he shoved the pastry in the soldier’s face. Steve took a bite, jelly gushing around the sides as flavor overwhelmed his senses. His eyes must have been comically wide as Tony started laughing before lowering his phone. A few seconds later, as Steve was cradling the donut to prevent any jelly or crumbs from getting on the couch, his own phone went off. He let out a sigh, half annoyed despite the something warm curling inside him, knowing the rest of the team would get to share the moment of his first sufganiyot with him.


	7. When the Light gets Low

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Natasha and Bruce share a quiet moment.

“Sun’s getting real low, big guy.”

Bruce didn’t startle as Natasha slid into the seat next to him at the kitchen counter. He’d heard her as she walked up, the assassin intentionally making her footsteps audible.

“Ha ha,” He drawled, tilting his head to rest on her shoulder. His gaze never left the still burning candles though. “Very funny. That bit hasn’t worked in months.”

“I know.” She tilted her head to rest against his. For a while, the silence was comfortable between them. Natasha had cut her hair for a mission, her short red strands mixed with Bruce’s salt and pepper, and they breathed together. The candles were unscented and properly blessed, weren’t something cheap from Bath and Body Works, but they still filled the air with sweetness. Or maybe that was just Bruce’s conditioner.

“Couldn’t sleep, Doctor?” She sat up straight, stretching slightly.

“I could ask you the same question. Sun is far past low.” His voice was even, a subtle hit of teasing, but he still didn’t look away from the candles.

She gave a soft hum. When they first met, Bruce had shied away from everyone, especially her. He could tell when she was trying to work answers out of him and responded by closing himself off even further. She’d changed tactics, tried to find what made him tick, but he was almost unbeatable. The Widow had never met a mark she could crack.

The closer Bruce got to the team, the less he shied away. Getting information out of him was still like pulling teeth – not that Natasha would use that tactic on her friend – but he was emboldened to call her out on the manipulation. It went from a chase to a game, where they could both verbally spar back and forth.

It was the back and forth that finally cracked Bruce, Natasha had learned after one particularly brutal battle. Back when ‘the lullaby’ had still worked, she had Bruce alone in the woods. Had innocently asked if he’d ever been to this part of the Pacific Northwest. Instead of answering, he bounced the question back to her. Maybe it had been the exhaustion from the fight or maybe she was just that determined to try every tactic. Or maybe, she too had gotten closer to her team. She answered, told how she had never been here but the forests of impossibly tall trees reminded her of home. The home she had before the Red Room.

Her confession was met with a moment of silence before he met her half way. Told her he went to college on this coast, had travelled up here one spring break with his friends. It was a short story, she knew he was skimming over details, but the way he told it, that one nice moment before all the insanity that was their lives, watching the smile on his face as he shared with her, it was all worth it.

“The seventh night is always my favorite.” She was looking away from the candles now, looking at him. “I only got to celebrate the holiday once when I…” It was easy to talk about in mission briefings or to write down on a resume stained with metaphorical (and sometimes literal) blood, but when she thought about the emotions tied to that part of her life, it was hard to give a name to her time with the Red Room. “I was on a mission, undercover in some small desert village I don’t even know where, but it was the seventh night. I was lying low and got to watch the candles in the window of the house across the way slowly burn down.”

“I don’t know many people with a favorite night.” He said, looking away from the light to smile at her for one soft moment before turning back. “I don’t have a favorite, but we’ve been doing other things all the previous nights, so they burned down without us looking. Not that I mind, of course, I like the time we’re spending as a…” He didn’t want to give it a name, but she knew what he meant. They all thought the same word without daring to say it. “When I was growing up, my father didn’t want us to celebrate this holiday. Or any holiday that wasn’t his. Mom and I would light candles, but in secret, and we always had to blow them out. I don’t know where she got the candles from, but we didn’t have very many, so they had to last all eight nights. Honestly, we probably reused some from year to year.”

He gave that small smile again, and there are details Natasha may never get to know. But that’s okay. She treasures the details Bruce does share. He might be the only person she doesn’t mind keeping secrets from her.

“I’ve never got to watch them burn down,” He continued, “like they were supposed to. Once I was on my own, I could. Not every night, of course, but when I can, I like to.”

Natasha hummed again, leaning to rest her head on his shoulder. “Is it okay if I watch with you?”

“I’d like that.”

“Okay.”

As the light got lower and lower, Natasha realized that for this story, the one Bruce was experience right now, she’d get to know every detail.


	8. Rebellion is

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The action packed conclusion to bring the team together for the last night of Hanukkah. And nothing is more in the spirit of the holiday than punching nazis.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The violence in this chapter is really mild, but it's a bit jarring compared to the lightness of the previous chapters, so I wanted to include the warning. Enjoy!

It wasn’t unusual to see Clint flopped over the side of the couch. That’s what couch arms were for, he would explain. The furniture on the common floor withstood clumsy gods, roughhousing super soldiers, and on one memorable occasion, an actual hulk, so it could survive a lazy archer.

This wasn’t usual lounging, though. Clint was moping. Despite knowing the archer for less time than the rest of the team, Bucky could tell. The blond was scrolling on his phone, but it was a sad sort of emptiness in his eyes, instead of the usual glazed over look.

“Hey,” Bucky poked at Clint’s calf that was stretched over the back of the couch.

“Hey,” He replied, voice dull.

Bucky sighed. This was going to take more emotional energy than he really had on a good day, but he could at least try. He subtly messaged Natasha and Sam – they were better at this. Moving around the couch, he lifted Clint’s head just long enough to sit down, letting the archer rest his head on Bucky’s lap.

“You’re moping.”

“I know.”

Bucky sighed again. “Wanna talk about it?”

Clint closed his eyes, whining a little. If he didn’t think about what was bothering him, maybe it would stop bothering him. And talking about it would definitely be thinking about it. But trying not to think about it wasn’t working great so far. He twisted in the couch so he was lying on his stomach, legs bent at an angle that couldn’t possibly be comfortable. His chin was propped up on his hands and he looked up at Bucky.

“Coulson isn’t a big holiday guy, but I was really hoping he’d join us. Especially after that first night when we all got to come together. He doesn’t like holidays but he likes us. And,” Clint shifted again, curling on his side with one leg thrown back over the arm of the couch, his head resting on Bucky’s lap again, “I miss him.”

“He’s on a mission in Europe, isn’t he?” He’d overheard a short exchange between the two some morning in the kitchen before Coulson had left.

“Eastern Europe, but yes.” Natasha had entered silently, but Bucky wasn’t too caught off guard as she sat on the arm of the couch, taking Clint’s leg in her lap. “It was a routine thing, I thought he’d be back by now.”

At that, Clint sat up. “Routine? How routine?”

“Like there were some hostages, probably some small scale Hydra cell to break up, he should be-” Natasha’s eyebrows did the smallest twitch, hardly noticeable by anyone who hadn’t spent a lifetime learning to read faces. “Oh.”

“He should have been able to answer my texts. Shit.” Clint was scrambling off the couch, barreling into the elevator and heading up to his floor before Bucky could even blink.

“What am I missing?”

“Coulson’s in danger.” Natasha was standing too, making her way out of the living room. Her phone was in hand and soon, Bucky’s own phone vibrated. “Get ready. Jarvis will have the quinjet ready for us in ten minutes.”

The elevator door slid closed and Bucky was still sitting on the couch, stunned. Bruce walked in from the back balcony, gardening gloves still on. “I got Tasha’s text, what’s happening?”

“Coulson.” Was all Bucky could offer, but Bruce seemed to understand as he nodded.

“Don’t think we’ll need the other guy for this, I should grab my medical equipment.” The doctor started muttering to himself about other supplies, making his way to the elevator. Bucky seemed to snap out of his stupor and follow, catching a lift to grab his own gear.

The quinjet was ready in eight minutes, the team inside and starting to take off. Iron Man was already suited up, flying ahead with Thor to scout out the situation. Natasha flew the rest of them across the Atlantic, as their usual pilot was occupied with trying to get through to Coulson’s phone.

“I’ve got a track on it.” Iron Man’s voice came in through the coms. “Location confirms with where his mission was supposed to be. Hacking into the camera now.”

The video was mostly dark, occasional flashes of light that seemed to imply the phone was in someone’s pocket. And that someone was moving. There were shouts, gunfire, the sick collision of fist and face.

“ETA?” Clint managed to ask when Tony cut the video feed.

“Another thirty minutes.” Natasha would have sounded emotionless to any other ears, but the team could hear the worry at the edge of her words, the underlying rage that she couldn’t make their transport go faster.

“War Machine, do you copy?” Steve asked into the coms. Rhodes had only taken a few days’ leave for the holiday, so returning to his assignment had put him closer to Europe than the rest of the team.

“At the location now, Cap. Not seeing much from the air, but my scans are picking up some kind of underground bunker.”

“Fuck,” Clint muttered. Bunkers like that were usually one way in, making them heavily guarded. Making this mission all the more dangerous for the Avengers and their captured agent.

“Hold on, honey bear, I’ll be there in five and my scans see more than yours do.” Even with the mask fully covering his face, the rush of wind could be heard over the coms as Iron Man reported in.

“Do not engage until we get there,” Cap’s voice was sharp, “Iron Man, Tony, do you hear me?”

For a terrifying thirty seconds, there was no response.

“Fine.” But Tony did not sound happy about it. “Scan showing heavy artillery guarding the entrance of the bunker. Don’t park too close, I think they have anti-aircraft. Steve, if I go in ahead – “

“Iron Man, I gave you an order.”

“If War Machine goes with me – “

“Tony, no.” There was a slight crunch of metal before Steve remembered to lighten his grip on stability handle in the quinjet.

Instead of responding, Tony pulled up the video feed from Coulson’s camera. It was still dark, with a lone patch of light, unmoving as though whatever was carrying it had gone still. There was muttered talking, some Slavic language, splashes of Russian and Urdu thrown around. A voice that was decidedly Coulson responded in Russian. Jarvis did a rough translation, though most of the team was fluent anyway. Something about a never working with Hydra and something else about a missile. About civilians.

The agent then gave a wet cough, and half the team winced, familiar with the feeling of blood where air should be. There was a click of a gun, then two shots before the feed turned static.

“I’m going in.” Iron Man was nearly as emotionless as Natasha before cutting his own feed.

“Tony wait! Fuck.” Steve cursed, “Natasha, how much – “

“Fifteen if I push it.”

“Thor, what – “

“I am two minutes behind the Man of Iron, Captain. I will keep my communication line open.”

“Thank you,” Steve breathed out. Tony going against orders was stressful, but not nearly as stressful as when he went radio silent.

“Cap,” War Machine chimed in, “I’ll take out the anti-aircraft artillery, you guys should be able to park close.” The rest of his feed became a series of gunshots and what could only be described as mechanical crunching.

“Is he taking them apart with his bare hands?” Clint’s voice was soft as he spoke in more than single words for the first time all flight.

“Gauntleted hands, but yeah.” Rhodes grunted as a something sparked. “These things are titanium-alloyed metal and wont be phased by being shot at. I didn’t want to blow up the entire thirty-foot radius so this is our best plan of action.” Something pinged on his com and the Colonel sighed. “Tony may have stopped talking but he’s still listening in. If he’s able to have Jarvis text me a thumbs up for my dismantling job, he’s fine.”

“For now,” Natasha mumbled and no one was sure if that was a concern or a threat.

The quinjet touched down right in front of the base, War Machine ready and waiting for them with his faceplate up.

“Thor’s inside,” He said, “path seems clear for now.” He flipped down the mask of the armor, eyes glowing their strange shade of red. He took the lead, Cap following immediately after, tailed closely by Hawkeye. His bow was in hand, fingers unnaturally still as they held an arrow in place.

The hallway immediately inside the bunker was narrow, ceilings just barely tall enough for the War Machine armor to fit. As much as Bucky wanted to go take the lead with Rhodey and Steve, to tear Hydra apart limb from limb (literally), he stayed back with Bruce. The words that had controlled him for decades had thankfully become just words, but the wounds were so fresh. He wasn’t about to risk his freedom for the sake of vengeance, not when he trusted his team to deal it out for him. Sam, especially when he got back from one of his particularly engaging classes, liked to remind Bucky that “the best rebellion is living a life better than they would ever want for you.”

Bruce looked just as uncomfortable just being in the doorway of a Hydra base; the claustrophobic hallways weren’t helping the twitch of the Hulk at the edges of his consciousness. But he wasn’t about to wait in the ship. If Coulson or any of the other hostages needed medical, he wouldn’t hesitate in being a first responder. Bucky would keep him safe, keep the situation un-hulk worthy, and Bruce would be the team medic instead of the team wrecking ball.

“Iron Man, please report.” Cap tried again as the hallways split into several directions. If he knew where Tony had directed the firefight, he’d know how to better divide the rest of the team. Instead of radio silence, static came through.

“That’s not good.” Rhodey said, voice distorted with anger and the armor’s filters. He took to a run before leaning forward and rocketing down one of the hallways. Cap sighed, directing Natasha to follow the Colonel. He paired Clint with himself and instructed Sam to take the hallway that didn’t have skid marks and bullets sprayed into the walls. The Falcon nodded, more used to aerial support, knowing his armor wasn’t designed for close combat like the rest of the team’s. It wouldn’t be the easy path – this was a Hydra facility after all – but it would be easier.

It was down that unmarked hallway that Sam passed hundreds, if not thousands, of doors. He paused at each, running scans and looking for life. A few held windows, showing only cold storage lined with jars of experimental remains that Sam wished he’d never looked in, or rooms with single surgical tables and cart of tools that no doctor in this century would use. He felt sick, but kept down the hall. The previously empty walls had developed tracks of ancient blood along the baseboards.

With another sharp turn, bullet holes joined the blood and Sam was almost certain he was back in the firefight. He could hear Tony shouting, unfiltered voice echoing down the hall, which meant his faceplate had been damaged.

“Cap, do you copy?” Sam tried calling in, only getting static in return. Muttering soft curses, he started to make a run down the hall. Even if the team couldn’t join them, Sam wasn’t going to let Tony’s impulsiveness get him killed. Before he got too far, there was banging on one of the many doors lining the hallway.

The Falcon skipped to a stop, staring at the heavy metal door the banging had come from. There was silence, save for the distant echo of the fight, before another thunder of knocking came through. Sam drew his gun.

“This is Sam Wilson, alias Falcon of the Avengers. I’m opening the door and I am armed. Put your hands up.” This was a bad move, he knew it, but the odds of the door hiding Hydra agents was about as high as the chance it was hiding hostages in need of a rescue. But then again, Sam knew statistics weren’t his strong suit.

The door required a pin code, but the paint on four of the buttons was worn down. It took two tries, but Sam was able to crack the code and the door slid open.

The room inside was dark, but as light from the hallway pooled in, Sam let out of a breath. Hostages, dirty and tired, but alive, stood around the door with their hands up.

“Are you with Agent Coulson?” A young woman asked.

Sam blinked, not expecting the question. He didn’t think Hydra would have stored a high level agent with civilian hostages. However, he supposed that was better than putting Phil in any of the other rooms he’d seen down this hall.

Suppressing a shudder, Sam nodded. “Yes, I am. Do you know where he is?”

A few of the hostages gave soft smiles but the same woman spoke up. “He saved us! Helped us fight back against those Nazi shitbags!”

“But he said those were low level guards,” An older woman chimed in, “that we should hide here while he dealt with the bigger guns.”

“Survival is the best rebellion.” The young woman quoted and Sam smiled. He had heard Coulson say those exact words in many early morning conversations, when the rest of the team had actually been lucky enough to find sleep and the Agent came home while Sam was still studying.

Coming back from the memory, he grinned at the civilians. “That’s great. I’m going to get you guys out of here.”

He tried his com again, “Bucky? Bruce? Do either of you copy?”

More static and then, “Yes Falcon, we copy.” Bruce sounded strained. Hopefully like he was holding some piece of tech and not holding the Hulk back.

“I have the hostages. Can you retrieve them? Take a right when the hallways fork and come all the way down.”

“Sending in Bucky.” The words were chopped up before the line went static again. Sam bit back a curse. Bucky would not do well down that ‘unmarked’ hall.

It was only a few minutes later when Bucky arrived. Despite running down the hall instead of searching it like Sam had, he’d seen enough. The haunted look in his eyes said that much.

“Hey,” Sam said softly, telegraphing his movements as he placed a hand on Bucky’s shoulder, giving a gentle squeeze, “You are Bucky Barnes and you came to help these hostages. Still want to do that?”

Bucky knew words wouldn’t be realistically within in his range right now, but his expression went a little softer as Sam reminded him that this was a choice. His choice. He nodded, solid and sure, before looking to the hostages. With a grunt, he gestured for them to follow. Some looked suspicious, the Winter Soldier’s face had been all over the news before as well as after the Avengers took him in.

“He’s one of us.” Sam reassured. “He wont talk much, but he’ll bring you to our doctor.” Some of the hostages nodded, following Bucky back down the hallway.

The young woman who spoke up was trailing behind and Sam got her attention. “Did you see which way Agent Coulson went?”

“I can show you.” She said. There was a fire in her eyes that Sam didn’t want to put out, but she was a civilian. She seemed to see his hesitation as she continued, “I’ve been here for a week or two – I think, time’s a little strange here – sneaking around the guards. They never fed us enough and Stan had a pretty bad cut that they didn’t treat so I needed supplies. These hallways are a maze. You wont find him without me.”

Sam sighed. With communications down and half the walls lined with heavy metals that prevented his scans from seeing very far, she was right. “Fine,” He agreed, shrugging off his flight pack, “But you’re wearing this. The wings will flair out and protect you if there’s any danger.”

She nodded. The pack was a little large against her shoulders, but Sam figured that’d make it easier to protect all of her. With a nod, she led him deeper into the base. The echoing of gunfire had stopped, which could either be good or very, very bad. But instead of following the scrapes and holes along the walls, she took a sharp right, down a somehow even more narrow hallway.

“Here.” She stopped in front of a door, heavier than any Sam had seen so far. “Can you hack this one like you did before?”

Sam tried not to wince. He wasn’t a hacker; that’s what they had Tony and Tasha for. This door had a bio-scanner, not a keypad, he couldn’t use his trick like last time. Maybe another trick might work; the odds weren’t in his favor for it, but he’d let Bruce handle the statistics.

Raising his gun, he pressed the barrel against the underside of the scanner. He fired twice, creating an X inside the device. There was a soft click and the heavy door lifted. “Hacked.” He said, smirking wider than he thought he had any right to. The young woman looked impressed, anyway.

That smile died when the open door revealed the barrel of a gun pointed at his face. There was a beat of tense silence, before the person in the shadows of the room sighed and lowered the gun. A single step forward brought Agent Coulson into the light.

“Phil!” Sam pocketed his own gun and pulled the agent into a barreling hug before quickly stepping back. “Shit, sorry, are you hurt?”

The agent laughed. “A few bruises and I might want Banner to look at my right arm, but I’m okay. It’s good to see you, Mr. Wilson.”

“Likewise.”

“I do regret not being able to join the team for the holiday.”

“Still got one night left.” Sam gave an easy smile, which Coulson returned as a promise of sorts. They’d make it out of here before dark.

Sam took a minute to look at the room Coulson had been holed up. It was small, smaller than the room with the hostages. Computer monitors filled an entire wall, showing different camera angles of the base, as well as radio frequencies and what might be raw code.

“The team’s communications might have been affected, and I apologize about that, but I need to make sure the Hydra goons didn’t alert any outside support.”

Sam nodded with Coulson’s explanation. “And what else is this?”

“I couldn’t win in a firefight. I barely one in a fistfight getting to this room. But this base has some rather unregulated nuclear experiments at it’s heart – part of why I was personally called in rather than sending a team for the hostages. Once they’re clear, I can make this place implode.” Phil was never very emotive and this moment was no exception, but there was something dark and nearly manic at the edges of his bland smile. His split lip probably added to the look.

“Alright,” was all Sam could say for a moment, “We’ve got the hostages out. Was that everyone in that room with…” Sam gestured to his guide, expression turning awkward when he realized he’d never gotten her name.

“Amelia,” Coulson supplied, smile turning softer. “She’s got potential. Hoping this mission goes well, I would like to know if she’d have an interest in rebuilding certain strategic intelligence agencies with our team.”

“It’d be an honor, sir.” She was positively beaming.

“And yes,” Coulson continued, “I checked every camera. The only other people in this facility are Hydra or our own. Speaking of which…” Coulson turned back to the monitors, typing something in the field of code before the screens flickered, showing the team meeting up with Iron Man. “Think you can get to them and get them out of here?”

Maps came up and Sam quickly committed them to memory. “Can do. Keep Amelia with you and start the nuclear override as soon as you see me get to the team. We’ll be able to get out as fast as you can.”

Coulson nodded, another promise. Their nuclear option wouldn’t leave anyone behind, aside from a pile of Hydra dust.

With that, Sam took to the door and sprinted down the hall. Two lefts, then a right brought him to the heart of the fight, dodging a bullet that missed him and struck the blemished wall.

“Falcon! Where’s your armor?” Steve saw him first, distracted at just the wrong moment for a Hydra goon to get a little too close with some laser-like weapon. Sam didn’t hesitate to draw his gun, stopping the goon with a single shot.

“Don’t need it right now. We need to get out of here. All of us.” He gave a few aborted ASL signals. The team had learned, since Clint so often damaged his aids during a fight – or forgot to put them in early in the morning and everyone still needed to yell at him not perch on top of the fridge. The rough explanation that Coulson was going to melt the base from existence would be understood by the Captain, but not the Hydra agents, so they’d be left to go down with their own twisted ship.

“Avengers!” Steve shouted over the gunfire. “Fall back.”

Everyone turned to stare at him, confused Hydra soldiers included. Tony’s mouth was already open to protest, but Steve gave a few quick hand signs and understanding rippled through the team.

“Clench up, Legolas.” Tony said instead of whatever protest had been on his tongue. He and Clint took off as War Machine grabbed the Black Widow, both rocketing down the hall.

“You lack your wings, Falcon. Might I be them?” Thor must have met up with Tony long before the rest of the team did, given the scorch marks marring far down the halls. Sam gave a quick nod before the god wrapped an arm around him, swung his hammer, and they were off. Steve was the last one to leave, running behind them after landing a nasty punch to a Hydra agent who didn’t seem to think the fight was over despite the tactical retreat.

Once outside the base, the team scrambled onto the quinjet, where Bucky and Bruce had already moved the civilians. There must have been about twenty of them, so it would be a tight flight, but nothing anyone would complain about. Bruce did a quick headcount, each Avengers counted for, including Coulson and the new Amelia.

“How long until this becomes toxic waste?” Clint asked, not releasing his arms around Phil’s waist, even as Bruce was treating the agent’s arm.

“It already was.” Bucky muttered, and several different people agreed with him.

“About two minutes. Glad everyone was on time for once.” Phil gave a fond smile as the quinjet took off. Natasha notified local authorities to quarantine the area. “We’ll have to debrief everyone about this. I heard there were some issues with disobeying direct orders.”

Tony didn’t bother returning Phil’s pointed look. The armor was half off him, damaged pieces on the floor around him, allowing the billionaire to cross his arms without any metal in the way. 

“But,” he continued, “That can wait until tomorrow. Agent Hill can debrief the civilians and I think we should have just enough time to light candles before sundown.”

Clint gave a very soft “yay,” squeezing Coulson tighter before the agent winced and Bruce had to lecture them both about post-mission recovery time.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks so much for reading! Even though the holiday season has passed, I hope you enjoyed!


End file.
